#series: light's overture | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blueberrybirdsworld · 2 months ago

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Collision 3/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut

Warning : none

Serie Masterlist

CHAPTER 3 :

The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden stood like a monument to a time when art was worshipped like religion. Tonight, its grand entrance gleamed under a halo of soft amber lights, a string quartet playing near the entrance as elegant guests stepped from black cabs and town cars, their breath visible in the cold air.

Inside, everything glowed: marble floors reflecting chandeliers, velvet staircases winding upward like ribbon, golden balconies, the scent of expensive perfume and old wood. People murmured in soft voices, as if too loud a sound would shatter the illusion.

Lando Norris stood near the entrance, hands shoved in his pockets, tugging a little at the stiff collar of his tailored black suit.

“This is a bit much,” he muttered.

Pietra turned and shot him a look. “This, is culture. Behave yourself.”

Max adjusted his cufflinks beside him, eyeing the crowd like he wasn’t sure he belonged on. “Did you really drag us to a ballet?”

Pietra’s eyes twinkled. “Not just a ballet. The Nutcracker. Classic. Winter tradition. Magic. Glitter. Men in tights. Dreams.”

Lando lifted a brow. “Men in tights, huh?”

“Oh, grow up,” she laughed, swatting his arm. “It’s a masterpiece. And it’ll be good for you.”

“Good for me how?”

“Perspective,” she said smugly. “You’re always going on about cars and adrenaline and lap times. Well, try precision, beauty, and five pirouettes en pointe. Let’s see you do that.”

“I drive at 300km/h for a living,” he said dryly.

“And tonight you’ll sit still for two hours and appreciate that not everything is solved by horsepower,” Pietra countered. “Now straighten your jacket, we’re in a royal box. This is the Royal Opera House. Respect the moment.”

Lando sighed but complied, pulling at the lapel of his suit jacket. The group—dressed to the nines—ascended the staircase like tourists who had accidentally wandered into the dream of a duchess. The women glittered in long satin dresses, the men striking in black tie and sleek silhouettes.

And though Lando looked good he felt like he was walking through someone else’s story. The grandness, the quiet, the elegance—it wasn’t Monaco nightclubs or paddock chaos. It was another world entirely.

Inside their box, the lights dimmed.

Pietra leaned forward, eyes wide and sparkling. “Okay, okay, so,” she whispered like a child about to spill a secret. “The Nutcracker is a two-act ballet. In the first act, there’s a Christmas party, and a girl named Clara gets this magical nutcracker doll from a mysterious man. That night, everything becomes enchanted. The doll comes to life, there’s a fight with the Mouse King—don’t laugh—and then the nutcracker transforms into a prince.”

Max leaned closer. “And then?”

“Then they travel to the Land of Sweets, meet all these magical characters from different countries, and it’s all dreamy and symbolic and kind of romantic.”

“And people like this?” Lando asked, genuinely puzzled.

Pietra grinned. “People love this. Watch. You’ll see.”

The lights dimmed further.

A hush fell over the entire theatre.

And then, the curtain rose.

It started gently. A twinkling overture, warm lights over a wintry backdrop of a Christmas tree and glittering snow. Children ran across the stage in costumes, dancers moved in character, graceful and composed.

Lando was watching with polite curiosity when, halfway through the first act, everything shifted.

The moment she stepped onto the stage, it was like time paused.

Ariana.

His breath caught.

No warning. No introduction. No spotlight drama.

She entered as if summoned by the music, wearing a pale blush gown that shimmered under the lights, hair pulled back with a delicate silver ribbon. She was Clara. The Clara. The lead.

Lando blinked once. Twice.

His heart was suddenly very loud.

Pietra’s mouth dropped open.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “That’s her.”

Lando didn’t move. He couldn’t. His eyes were locked on her.

She floated across the stage—not just graceful, not just pretty—but impossibly, breathtakingly alive in a way he hadn’t seen before. Every movement was deliberate, yet effortless. She leapt and landed like gravity didn’t apply to her. She spun in tight, impossible circles, arms open as if catching stars.

She wasn’t just performing.

She was the story.

And suddenly, Lando understood.

Why she moved like that. Why she held herself the way she did. Why she had looked at him like noise in a quiet room. Because this—this was her universe. This was the language she spoke.

And he’d never even asked.

He felt a strange, tight twist in his chest. A mix of shame and awe.

He hadn’t known.

Hadn’t known she was this.

Throughout the rest of the ballet, he barely blinked.

He wasn’t the only one. The entire box was mesmerized. Even Max, who had made at least three jokes on the way in about falling asleep during the performance, now leaned forward, chin in hand, watching every scene like he was afraid to miss something.

They watched Ariana twirl through snowstorms, dance with the Nutcracker Prince, glide through dreamscapes and magic lands. Her expressions were soft and full of wonder, her body arching in impossible angles, muscles whispering with the kind of strength he hadn’t realized ballet required.

There were no words spoken on stage.

But Lando had never felt someone say so much with silence.

When the final curtain fell, the theatre erupted in applause.

The entire company bowed.

And then Ariana stepped forward, alone, bathed in golden light, cheeks flushed from exertion but serene, glowing. She bowed deep, arms sweeping with practiced elegance.

Lando clapped, but he couldn’t stop staring. Something twisted hard inside him again—like the moment you realize you’ve underestimated someone so completely it hurts.

Pietra leaned in close. “So… still think ballet’s boring?”

He swallowed. “She didn’t tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“What she does. Who she is.”

“Well, you didn’t actually ask,” Pietra said gently.

The applause was still echoing in Lando’s ears when they stepped back into the velvet-lined corridors of the Royal Opera House. The performance had ended, but he felt like he was still inside it somehow—like something had cracked open inside him and the air hadn’t quite settled.

Pietra turned to the group, eyes alight with the glow of champagne and satisfaction.

“So,” she said, with the flair of someone about to drop a bomb, “slight update. These weren’t just regular tickets.”

Max raised a brow. “Pietra…”

“They were donor tickets. Which means…” she leaned in closer, “they come with an invite to the post-show gala.”

“What gala?” Lando asked, distracted.

She grinned. “The gala. In the grand reception room. Dinner, champagne, the company dancers mingling with donors and patrons. Which means…” she gave Lando a pointed look, “she will be there.”

Lando’s pulse jumped before he could stop it.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Five minutes later, he was striding through the gilded maze of corridors, ascending the wide staircase toward the reception hall, his jacket adjusted just enough to pass for elegant despite the nervous energy thrumming beneath it.

The gala was already in full swing.

Crystal chandeliers spilled golden light over towering arrangements of white roses. Waiters in white gloves wove through clusters of well-dressed guests with silver trays of champagne and amuse-bouches. A small quartet played softly in the corner, the music smooth and expensive.

And then—like a moment conjured from thin air—

She entered.

Ariana.

Her hair was pulled into a sleek high ponytail, the ends curled slightly and brushing her bare back. She wore a floor-length white silk gown that clung to her like poured light. The back dipped scandalously low, revealing the clean lines of her spine and the soft muscles of her shoulders. The neckline was delicate, held by thin straps, the fabric moving like water as she walked in heels she made seem silent.

He didn’t have the words for it.

Maybe no one did.

And apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

Almost instantly, she was surrounded. Dancers from the company enveloped her with cheers and laughter, their energy infectious. Some older patrons came forward, offering her flowers wrapped in tissue paper, others fawning with compliments, air kisses, and flutes of champagne she accepted with elegant restraint.

Lando watched from a distance, frozen in place.

Then he arrived.

The lead dancer from the ballet.

Tall, chiseled, with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, and a dancer’s arrogant poise. He wore a midnight blue tuxedo that looked custom, his dark blond hair slicked back, smile gleaming like it had been rehearsed. And he greeted her like they were the only two people in the room.

His hand went to her waist first—innocent. Then her back. Lower. Too low.

Lando’s jaw tightened.

They were laughing at something. She leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and the dancer grinned like he’d just won a game no one else had even noticed being played.

Max appeared beside Lando with a champagne flute. “Dude. You look like you’re ready to fight someone.”

Lando didn’t respond.

“You gonna talk to her?”

“I’m trying,” he muttered. “But she’s surrounded.”

“And the blond guy?”

“Don’t ask.”

Pietra sidled up next, watching Ariana like a hawk. “She’s like… otherworldly tonight.”

“She always is,” Lando murmured.

Pietra glanced sideways at him, then smirked. “You’re so screwed.”

It was almost an hour after that Ariana slipped away.

He saw her excuse herself from the circle gently, handing her untouched champagne to someone else, her smile soft but clearly rehearsed. She walked through the tall glass doors onto the balcony that overlooked Covent Garden below, the city twinkling with holiday lights.

She stood there alone, arms resting lightly on the marble edge, her gown catching the breeze.

Lando didn’t wait.

He moved.

Quiet steps. Fast heart.

When he stepped onto the balcony, she turned—slowly, calmly. Her expression unreadable.

There was a long pause before either of them spoke.

“You followed me,” she said, voice soft, without surprise.

“You left the room,” he replied.

“Not everyone would follow.”

“I’m not everyone.”

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer. Then she turned back to the city lights.

He took a breath. “You were incredible tonight.”

A pause.

“Thank you.”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I mean… really. I didn’t know. I didn’t know that was you. That you could do… that.”

She tilted her head slightly, looking at him from the corner of her eye. “You never asked.”

The words landed like a dart.

“I should have asked.” he admitted.

A flicker of something passed over her features—disbelief, or maybe disappointment.

“You didn’t seem that interested.”

“I was,” he said quickly. “I am.”

“But only now,” she said, her voice still calm, but with a slight edge. “Only after you saw me on stage. In a silk dress. Under lights.”

“That’s not true,” he said, stepping closer again. “I just didn’t know how to talk to you. You… you’re—”

“Different?”

He hesitated. “Not what I’m used to.”

She gave a small laugh, almost bitter. “That much is clear.”

He stepped closer, so close now the chill of the air seemed to warm between them.

“I didn’t come out here to fight,” he said, quieter now. “I just… needed to talk to you.”

“You’re doing that,” she said, her tone unreadable. “But why?”

He looked at her for a long moment. Then asked, quietly, “Can I ask you something first?”

She nodded, cautiously.

“Do you even know what I do?”

Ariana blinked, taken off guard. “No,” she admitted.

Lando gave a crooked smile. “Formula One driver.”

She stiffened. Visibly.

He watched the breath leave her lungs, slow and sharp like a cold wave.

“That’s sound… dangerous.”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

She turned to face him fully now, the silk of her gown catching moonlight, her arms crossing lightly in front of her body. “I don’t like dangerous things.”

He tilted his head. “Why not?”

“I prefer things I can control,” she said simply. “A set rhythm. A choreographed routine. No improvisation. Nothing sudden or reckless.”

He smiled—just a little. “I’m sudden and reckless.”

She didn’t smile back. “I noticed.”

There was a quiet beat between them, the breeze fluttering a piece of her hair across her cheek. She didn’t move to brush it away.

“I like being surprised,” Lando said. “The adrenaline, the edge of not knowing what’s coming. That’s… where I live.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Maybe.” He took a small step forward, dropping his voice lower. “But it’s also kind of beautiful, if you learn how to see it. You should come watch sometime.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Just once,” he said. “You let me into your world tonight. Let me show you mine.”

“I don’t like danger,” she repeated, but softer this time.

He gave her a look that lingered, slow and deliberate. “Maybe you don’t hate it as much as you think.”

The tension between them shifted again—less prickly now, more charged. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak but changed her mind.

“You really didn’t know I was a dancer?” she asked, quietly.

“No. And I don’t know why it makes me feel like I’ve missed a hundred important things.”

“You did.”

Her voice was soft. Closer now. He could see the curve of her collarbone, the gentle rise and fall of her breath.

“I want to know them now,” he said.

She searched his face, something undecided flickering behind her eyes. Then he ask—

“That dancer earlier. The one who played the prince.”

Ariana stiffened. “We trained together since we were thirteen. He’s like a brother.”

“…Didn’t look like a brother.”

She smirked. “You’re jealous.”

He didn’t deny it.

“You’re possessive for someone who barely knows me,” she said, stepping a little closer. Just enough for her perfume—something floral, sweet, and faintly powdery—to wrap around him.

“I want to change that,” he said, voice low. “The barely part.”

The distance between them had all but vanished.

A wind passed through the balcony, her silk skirt brushing his legs, her ponytail swaying softly. Her eyes searched his face—carefully, cautiously.

“Still not sure about you,” she whispered.

“Good,” he whispered back. “I’m not sure about me either.”

Her lips parted.

Then— Someone called her name from inside. The spell shattered.

She stepped back, visibly pulling herself together.

“I should go,” she said gently.

Lando nodded, pulse thudding.

But as he turned to leave, she called softly, “Lando?”

He paused.

Her eyes met his, one last time.

“You look good in a suit.”

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svndaysaweek · 1 year ago

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Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on.

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder.

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down.

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass.

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom.

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear.

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that.

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan.

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you.

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes.

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you.

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more.

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.” With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind.

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”

Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.

“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”

******

#kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #karina smut #aespa smut

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f0point5 · 1 year ago

Text

Lando Norris x reader Masterlist

🚨I am currently rewriting this series so please be aware it is unfinished🚨

Only rumours ‘bout my hips and thighs - News of Y/N and Lando’s budding “relationship” hits F1 news

It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got - Rumours about Lando and Y/N heat up. Meanwhile, Y/N is skeptical about Lando’s friendly overtures

You will take the long way - Y/N discusses her secret, and Lando lets out his frustrations with Max

At least I’m trying - Y/N catches up on the new season of Drive to Survive, while Lando makes another effort to befriend her

Gain the weight of you - Y/N ties up loose ends as the stage is set for the relationship to go public

You told your family for a reason - Y/N arrives in Bahrain, and the deception deepens

The jury’s out - Y/N meets more people in Lando’s life with mixed reception, and attends her first race

(They) find something to wrap (their) noose around - Lando is subject to some controversy, which means Y/N has to step in, whole fighting to stay in her comfort zone

You don’t know how nice that is…but I do - Y/N attends the race where she makes an immediate connection with Oscar, and Lando makes an ill-advised move to impress her

You don’t feel pretty, you just feel used - Y/N finds herself in high demand, much to her dismay, as she heads to Australia for the next race

I’m feeling like I don’t know you - Lando’s feelings about how Y/N is spending her time in Australia bubble over

New to town with a made up name - Y/N does a Q&A

Every time you shine, I’ll shine for you - Lando secures an amazing result at the Australian Grand Prix, while neitzens discuss his new relationship.

That old familiar body ache - Y/N is forced to get back to work, which includes seeing Lando

The rust that grew between telephones - Y/N’s campaign debuts while she and Lando are in Japan. Lando searches for answers for what happened in Monaco

It’s hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound - Y/N skips the Japanese Grand Prix and puts her job in jeopardy

Did you see the photos? No, I didn’t but thanks though - Y/N is forced to defend Lando from gossip, while her position as his girlfriend remains precarious

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you aware - Max F weighs in on Lando’s troubles, while Lando finds he and Y/N have a common interest

Lights, camera, bitch smile - Y/N puts on an impressive show at the Grand Prix. Lando’s jealousy gets the better of him, leading to a frank conversation

Don’t you worry your pretty little mind - Y/N reaches out to Lando when he is the subject of online trolling to offer support

I did my best to lay to rest - Y/N and Lando get closer in Miami, but the increased publicity may lead to things being unearthed that Y/N would like to stay buried

I was grinning like (he’s) winning - Y/N watches Lando become a Grand Prix winner

You can’t talk to me when I’m like this - Lando wins the Miami Grand Prix, but a misstep means Y/N is not part of the celebration

I never grew up, it’s getting so old - Oscar steps in to help when Y/N and Lando aren’t speaking

Can (he) see right through me? (I) see right through me - Y/N takes Oscar’s advice and opens up to Lando

Our secret moments, in a crowded room - Y/N and Lando spend time together while Monaco hosts the Historic Grand Prix

They’ll be chasing their tails trying to track us down - Fans speculate when Y/N and Lando are not seen together and she misses the Imola Grand Prix

It’s nice to have a friend - Y/N has a busy week in the South of France, and Lando tries to be supportive as the two plan to keep the rouse going when his family comes to town

I spy with my tired little eye - Y/N attends the Monaco Grand Prix

We might just get away with it - Y/N remains in Monaco with Lando to keep up pretences

Telling me to punish you for things you never did - Lando arrives alone in Canada while the internet finds out Y/N has been spending time with Freddie…and so does Lando.

Love’s a show, but I would die for you in secret - Father’s Day brings Y/N closer to understanding Lando, and letting Lando understand her

Braced myself for the goodbye, (…) but you took me by surprise - Y/N attends the Spanish Grand Prix. After a disappointment, Lando receives some tough love

But God, I love the English - Y/N accompanies Lando to the UK, and he supports her as the quadrant collaboration goes live

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djarins-cyare · 2 years ago

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✭ Series Masterlist ✭

Languishing in a dull and lonely existence on the forest moon of Endor after travelling there to help salvage Death Star wreckage, a nearly fatal encounter with a mysterious bounty hunter out in the forest heralds an opportunity to utilise long-forgotten skills and develop something more profound than you ever thought possible.

Second person POV, present tense. Set post-season 2, diverges from Canon events before TBoBF and season 3. This is a novel-length, exceptionally slow burn with an original plot, worldbuilding, and fully-developed characterisation. SWU concepts and lore are accurately researched.

WORDS: 406,700

PAIRING: Din Djarin x Female Reader/You

RATING: Explicit (18+)

CHARACTERS: Din Djarin, Reader/You/Female OC, Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Human Characters, Greef Karga, Cara Dune, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Peli Motto

TAGS: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Romance, Love, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Smut, Sex, Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Relationships, Healthy Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Dark Past, Additional Warnings In Author's Notes, Bounty Hunter Din Djarin, Soft Din Djarin, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Smart Din Djarin, Soft Dominant Din Djarin, Ewok Species, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a Language, New Razor Crest, Thoroughly Researched, Worldbuilding, No use of y/n.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This took me almost a year to write and four months to edit/proof. Each chapter is prefaced with specific tags and (where necessary) warnings, plus word counts. End notes contain translations and comments… this baby is thoroughly researched, so I’m sharing context where appropriate. I’ve also added definitions of in-universe terms so people less familiar with the franchise won’t be left wondering what the hell certain words or references mean. This is a slow burn (adult themes), and although the explicit content only occurs in the latter half, when it does, it warrants the ‘E’ rating. Basically, the first half is a love story, and the second half gets spicy. I hope you enjoy it!

READ THE COMPLETE STORY ON AO3:

(Chapters containing explicit content marked †)

Chapter 1: The Obstacle

Chapter 2: The Interrogation

Chapter 3: The Covenant

Chapter 4: The Snare

Chapter 5: The Strike

Chapter 6: The Groundwork

Chapter 7: The Genesis

Chapter 8: The Progression

Chapter 9: The Hide

Chapter 10: The Beast

Chapter 11: The Adjustment

Chapter 12: The Storm

Chapter 13: The Broadside

Chapter 14: The Intercourse

Chapter 15: The Village

Chapter 16: The Confession

Chapter 17: The Reprieve

Chapter 18: The Fortification

Chapter 19: The Ambush

Chapter 20: The Meridian

Chapter 21: The Homestretch

Chapter 22: The Union †

Chapter 23: The Overture

Chapter 24: The Crescendo

Chapter 25: The Harmony †

Chapter 26: The Cadence †

Chapter 27: The Ride †

Chapter 28: The Veneration †

Chapter 29: The Spree †

Chapter 30: The Tribute †

Chapter 31: The Courage

Chapter 32: The Feast

Chapter 33: The Exhibition †

Chapter 34: The Reward

Chapter 35: The Binding †

Chapter 36: The Synergy †

Chapter 37: The Match †

Chapter 38: The Flag †

Chapter 39: The Foundling †

Chapter 40: The Future †

Tumblr exclusive bonus scene: The Solace †

✨Additional Media✨

@burntheedges has written a spectacular little drabble detailing what Din was up to during the paragraph break near the end of chapter 1 (*SPOILERS* you don’t find this out until chapter 27).

@roughdaysandart has sketched a fantastic scene study of the end of chapter 33, and it’s absolutely perfect (*SPOILERS* cliffhanger ending for the chapter).

@djarin-desires has created some awesome images of a few scenes using Midjourney.

Here’s a little bonus feature on how I created some of the more complex chapter images: part 1 and part 2.

I spent a stupid amount of money on the Hot Toys official Din Djarin action figure, simply so I could photograph him in poses from my fic 🤷🏼‍♀️ This is just a taster of what’s to come, but here he is in chapter 8, offering to help Reader climb onto the speeder.

🧡💚 Thank you for reading! 💚🧡

➤ MAIN MASTERLIST

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stranger-feathers · 7 months ago

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The Byler miscommunication in Season 4, and why I find it so interesting

This is a continuation/inspired by what I said in this post, you can think of it as a preview of this.

Miscommunication plots are usually hated in fiction, and it's easy to understand why. They're often trite and uninteresting, only existing by chance and contrivances to create pointless conflict. We all have seen that scene where a character walks in or out, at the exact wrong moment, and ends up making up a completely outlandish scenario, or completely misinterprets someone's intention while we're left sighing and hoping for the end. It's annoying, everyone hates it, but we all live with it regardless. You may then ask : why do I like the miscommunication conflict used in ST4 so much if I normally hate them ?

At its core, it is a miscommunication conflict, there's no real denying it. Mike and Will are somehow both convinced the other doesn't care anymore, despite the audience knowing that this assumption doesn't make much sense. The interesting part though is why they end up thinking so. Buckle up, and let me tell you a story of why this conflict was actually very well done on the part of the writers.

1) Backstory : Mike & Will's relationship before the conflict (S2 and before)

Mike and Will are presented as a special pair from the beginning of the show, I don't think this needs to be demonstrated here (there are countless analysis that have done so better than I ever could). During Season 2, we are shown a Mike who is constantly looking out for Will, and reaching out in ways that others do not. He tries to call the Byers' house to check up on Will when he misses school, and, most importantly, he's the only one who actually goes there to find Will when calling does not work. Put a pin on that, Mike going to see Will when calling fails will come back. This motif of Mike reaching out to Will is so fundamental that it is highlighted as being the very way they became friends. They were both alone and Mike reached out : "And I just walked up to you and… I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend."

(he's such a sweetie pie sometimes).

Mike is the leader of the group, and it really shows in this tendency to initiate things. It's easy to realise that, early in the series (and presumably before as well), Mike makes the plans to hang out. The writers use the D&D games to showcase that fact : they happen at his house, and he is the DM. He prepares them for weeks and clearly puts efforts into them, all so his friends can have fun with him. He initiates things and expect others to answer present : that's simply how he prefers to communicate. But what does that have to do with Will ?

Will as a character is reached out to in a lot of his interactions. The plot of Season 1 is heavily focused on reaching out to Will stuck in the Upside Down, be that with Joyce's lights or with El's powers (the talkies and the void both). Here, Joyce and El are allies in communication, and El particularly so where Mike is concerned. Put a pin on those two, they'll also come back (less positively unfortunately). However, Will as a character rarely initiate interactions. Will seems to strugle with opening up if the people around him don't make an active effort to reach out, which is why we so often see Jonathan and Mike actively asking him if he's okay and initiating their scenes. That's why Mike is such a good fit for Will : he knows how to coax him out of his shell and reach out, which Will treasures immensely.

The other side of the coin then is : why does Mike treasure Will ?

Will seems to be one of the rare characters to react positively to Mike being vulnerable, and one of the rare characters Mike opens up to in the first place. After all, most of his overtures of closeness with Nancy are rebuffed, his relationship with his mother is in an awkward middle ground between apparent care and lack of good worded communication, his friendship with Lucas tends toward confrontation in early seasons... Mike apparently struggles with expressing himself and his vulnerable emotions fully. Or well, he would, if it wasn't for Will, or so the show implies.

If we take the crazy together scene as an example of their usual friendship (which is up for debate, but I usually assume it to be the case), Mike feels comfortable enough with Will to calmly express his feelings towards El and her death, and they manage to meet each other in the middle, ending the scene with the mutual declaration that they'll go crazy together. This is a question initiated by Mike : Will is simply the one answering it. However, this exchange still puts Will in a pretty restricted and cherished category for Mike : someone who answers positively to Mike's overtures of closeness and vulnerability.

Interestingly enough, Mike asserts in that scene that El would understand too : after all, she's the one who understood him in Season 1, when Will was unreachable. Sadly, we see that understanding diminish with time, leaving Mike more and more isolated : two examples that come to mind would be the "blank makes you crazy" scene (where El fails to answer Mike correctly) and the complete shutdown of his attempt to empathise about being bullied during their Season 4 fight. (This is mostly a tangent, but it fits the overall theme of this analysis so I'll let it stay here)

Will answering positively to Mike's reaching out is also the one thing Mike chooses to highlight about their dynamic during Will's possesion, proving how deeply appreciated Will's answers are : "And you said yes. You said yes."

As Mike says : "It was the best thing I've ever done". Letting himself be vulnerable with Will, and Will reacting positively, was the best thing ever for 13 year-old Mike.

Do note that I'm French and the French version is specifically "[you saying yes] was the best thing that ever happened to me", which supports my point here even better. That probably colors my perception of this scene, but the underlying idea is still there in English in my opinion.

And Will rewards Mike being vulnerable again by responding extremely positively : he starts tapping in Morse code, an answer to Mike's desperate reaching out.

Now that we've layed out the ground work for how they work at their best, let's see what happens when this dynamic falls apart.

2) The big conflict : Season 3's fallout

It's summer of 1985, and Mike spends most of his time making out with El. He seemingly stopped reaching out to Will, or at the very least, doesn't do it half as much as he used to. Will, feeling left behind, decides to be the one to reach out this time : he plans a D&D game, the same way Mike used to do. This is Will attempting to clumsily replace Mike in their usual dynamic : if Mike doesn't want to initiate things anymore, then Will will try to do it instead. He quite literally replaces Mike's role as the DM (aka the initiator and planner in D&D), but the game still happens at Mike's : this is, after all, Will's way to reach out to Mike specifically. The others are never really accused of leaving Will behind, and rightly so since they seem to have kept up with him much better.

Unfortunately for Will, that plan does not go smoothly at all. Freshly-broken-up-with Mike is not in the headspace to answer positively to Will's reaching out, and they end up fighting, presumably for the first time in a long time (or ever) if Mike's surprise is anything to go by. Mike digs his grave more and more before realising that he truly fucked up, and decides to try to fix things by, you guessed it, reaching out to Will. He bikes to Will's house under the pouring rain, profusely apologises (not that Will actually hears it, but the intent is there), and keeps looking for Will until he finally finds him at Castle Byers. Unfortunately for Mike, this is too little too late : we never get to see Will's answer, nor do we know what Mike did to apologise once he found him. The conflict is slipped under the rug rather than resolved (as Lucas' discussion with Will in the next episode highlights). What Will learns from this interaction is that reaching out to Mike when Mike fails to do so isn't a solution : it simply seems to make things even worse.

Fast forward to the end of the season, and Will uses D&D to get this point across : "I'll just use yours when I come back. I mean, if we still wanna play." Whatever happens next, Will leaves it to Mike to reach out.

Mike reaches out to Will one last timen before he leaves : "What if you want to join another party ?" And Will answers the exact thing Mike wanted to hear : "Not possible." Both of them end up seemingly on the same page : back to their usual dynamic, smiling brightly at each other with an unsaid promise that things won't change. Unfortunately, things do change, and not for the better.

3) Post-conflict : THE miscommunication (Season 4)

It's March of 1986, and Mike is on a plane to California. We know from the first episode that Mike and El sent each other letters, but we have no information on the communication between Will and Mike. Then comes their first meeting on screen and it is more than awkward.

Will is prepared for a big hug, yet Mike is keeping his distance for unknown reasons. It's obvious something happened on Mike's side between their last conversation and this, but what it exactly is is left up to our imagination for now.

The start of an answer is given in their fight at Rink-O-Mania : "[Mike] called maybe a couple of times [...] meanwhile [El] has like a book of letters from [him]". Whatever happened on Mike's side isn't a one time thing, but a continuous issue in communication between them. Mike seemingly doesn't want to reach out to Will anymore, leaving Will hurt and feeling abandoned by one of his favourite persons. (Jonathan's behaviour in California also does not help remedy that fact, since he has never been as distant from Will as he is this season)

However, a few episodes later, we are given a very strange piece of information by Dustin : "Joyce has this telemarketer job, she's always on the phone. Mike won't stop whining about it." Now why would Mike whine about the phone, if he barely even called Will ? It's not like Mike was calling El, we established both at the end of Season 3 and at the start of Season 4 that they communicate by letters (as Will confirms) and talkies. A plausible conclusion for those two pieces of information is then that Mike did reach out to Will more than Will thought, but just couldn't get through. (this is the conclusion I use in this analysis, even if it has not been confirmed to be the case)

But wait, remember that pin about what Mike does when phone calls don't work to reach Will ? He goes directly to his house. A shame that the Byers moved to the other side of the country then, wouldn't you say ? Mike is therefore left to stew in his hurt feelings, convinced that Will doesn't want to answer like he used to. With that, Mike loses one of the rare persons that he can be fully honest to (and as we've established, El's understanding of Mike is also looking worse and worse as time passes).

The move is an obstacle to the very premise of their communication, and that's what makes it a great conflict. Will feels like Mike doesn't want to reach out anymore, and Mike feels like Will doesn't want to answer. This isn't a conflict that exists in spite of the characters, but because of them.

Speaking of external obstacles to communication, remember that pin we put on Joyce and El being allies in communication ? Well, it's certainly not the case anymore. Here, Joyce is the obstacle that prevents Will from answering Mike's calls. And El is the obstacle that prevents Mike from reaching out by letters. As he puts it himself, "[El] has a book of letters from [him] because she's [his] girlfriend". And Will, who obviously isn't Mike's girlfriend, doesn't need letters.

And with those informations, we can now reconstruct what happened on Mike's first day in California.

Mike is feeling out of touch with Will ("I feel like I lost you") and is therefore awkward as hell. This makes Will think Mike doesn't want to talk to him anymore ("you're not interested in anything I have to say"), which means Will doesn't answer the way Mike wants ("you were rolling your eyes, you were moping, you were barely talking"), which leads to their fight. That whole day at its core is Mike failling to initiate correctly, which makes Will freak out and answer incorrectly : this is them not being on the same wavelength anymore, and a clear indication that their usual dynamic has been deeply disturbed by the last few months (or year, because as Joyce says, we're all time travelers, but especially if you're gay pining for your best friend).

Another very interesting detail to me is the implication that, while Will clearly still cares about Mike, wanting a big hug at the airport, we hear very little about Will's own attempts at reaching out. Mike points out the same thing when they fight : "Well maybe [Will] should've reached out more. Why am I the bad guy ?". And he isn't wrong per se. Will could/should have reached out more. But given their previous conflict in Season 3, and their history of communication before that, Will didn't feel comfortable reaching out. He tried last summer, and it ended up blowing up in his face : once bitten, twice shy. He's waiting for Mike to make the first move, even if that means not communicating at all. Will won't let himself ask more of Mike than Mike is willing to give him, or so he tries to convince himself as a deeply ashamed gay teen in the 80s (he does still get pissy about being the third wheel, which is understandable). It's a very juicy and dramatic series of events, but it still manages to feel very organic to me, and deeply in character. Will is more than understandable, despite being somewhat in the wrong and unknowingly self-sabotaging. Another interesting part is that Will himself does seem to come to the conclusion that he wasn't being entirely reasonable. When Mike comes to apologise, Will attempts an apology as well (quickly shut down by Mike though), because Mike's words made him recontectualise the situation.

In that same apology, they manage to make the first step towards fixing their relationship. Now that the situation allows it, they go back to the exact dynamic that worked out so well for them before : Mike initiates and seeks Will out with an overture of friendship, and Will answers gratefully (even grabbing his painting, the very proof of his love and understanding of Mike).

Later down the line, Will covertly apologises for not reaching out more : "if [I] was mean to you, or if [I] seemed like [I] was pushing you away, it's probably because [I'm] scared of losing you". Since this comes from his speech about the painting, Will's name isn't on those words, but it's still progress for Will to admit and word it aloud, even if it's only to himself.

Besides, feelings don't always need to be said (as they put it themselves "I didn't say it." "You didn't have to"). The painting itself is proof enough for Mike that Will thought about him despite the distance. Mike really needed to know that, more than he needed an apology. Will finds the right answer to reasure Mike in the van scene, and they truly fix their friendship there (for now at least, since Mike has yet to realise Will broke their other rule of communication : "friends don't lie").

This plot is very dear to my heart because both of them have fucked up and hurt each other (and themselves) without meaning to. They acted out of carefully built familiarity with the other's behaviour (but also informed by their unresolved fight) even when the situation itself didn't allow their usual communication to work. That's why it blows up in their face, leading to the Rink-O-Mania fight. But this deep familiarity is also why they're so quick to build their relationship back up, seemingly stronger than ever. This is miscommunication done right folks, take notes.

#byler #stranger things #stranger things analysis #will byers #mike wheeler #stranger things character analysis #Wow this was a doozy to write #anyway they're the pookiest ever and I love them #I love it when my childhood friends act like childhood friends who know each other deeply #especially when that's exactly what bites them in the ass #tagging Byler even if it's not technically romantic #I'm sure everyone on that tag will enjoy this regardless #I hope this is as entertaining to read as it was for me to write #my analysis

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thirstkanaphan · 1 month ago

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Thirst Gets Lore-Pilled (Part 1/?)

Becoming a Lore-Tiny: Notes and Observations

I decided to lock in and immerse myself in Ateez lore! Thank you to @loving-that-officey-feel for being my guide and curator (their quotes are in italics). With their permission, I'm posting our interactions as I go through the different eras.

Treasure Era

It's kind of amazing how cinematic and assured their concept is from the get-go. I don't often give Pirate King its due credit, but it's such a bold and striking debut.

Everyone was playing that song (including me) because, like, at the time I really really didn't follow kpop news so I rarely heard about groups about to debut before they actually did, but I did actually hear the hype about ATEEZ. And when Pirate King dropped we all lost our goddamn minds with the 'holy shit, these are not rookies, how is this a debut track????'

So from what I understand (Hongjoong explained it to me) Treasure takes place chronologically after Fever. In terms of their storyline, they've already made it to the other world.

Yeah, Treasure's definitely for sure after Fever (just when exactly is kind of up for debate). They hooked us on black pirate drama and then they were like 'flashback/backstory time for a whole series' :D'

Treasure Ep. 2 is one of their strongest albums.

Hala Hala really is a staggering song/performance

So, Hala Hala is our introduction to Halateez. These are not our boys.

Who are these mysterious dudes in black that have our faces, and what do they want????

Okay, Wooyoung taking his mask off at the end of Hala Hala feels important.

Treasure Part 3: the boys have no interest in being woken up from their dream. They are fully immersed in the "Illusion." The tick-tock sound in Crescent is so ominous!

Yeah, that ticking clock really starts to get more ominous the more clock show up in Golden Hour... that's all I'm saying there

Treasure Ep. 3 is also an all-time summer album.

Illusion deserves better from me.

Treasure 3 is the anime equivalent of a beach episode before things get really dark.

OPEN YOUR EYES (Maddox!!)

anime beach episode on the surface... potential grimmdark reality (depending on what they are actually trying to wake up from.....)

They are so beautiful in Wave. Like, the platonic ideal of beautiful youth. Whoever styled Seonghwa for this album deserves a medal.

Holy crap, the Wave - Overture!! I've never seen this performance before. San is blowing up the screen.

All of them asleep during Utopia (Japanese Ver.) ... hmm

they do be needing some waking up... wonder what put them to sleep <cough>sopro<cough>

Wooyoung tangled up in chains...

I wonder what he did to cause that to happen as he's bathed in a ton of red light....

Woah, the All to Action preview is so eerie!!

Right? this is why you should never skip the teasers! They can set a whole different tone from the song they actually use in the mv, and a lot of the time the different tone is EERIE MENACE FOREBODING

End of Beginning goes so hard!

The comeback stage for Wonderland is SO CREEPY! All the naked mannequins...

Symphony No.9...an all-timer stage. So are we watching the full maturity of the pirates?

The more important lore bits from symphony no 9 are that ATEEZ are on a mission given to them by Halateez, (on Halateez's ship) after Halateez gave them the cromer. It's kind of like Illusion in that we are living our Best, Most Epic, Badass pirate life (that may be a dream within a dream within a dream...)

The silence at the end is so haunting. I know this happened during COVID so there's no live audience, but the silence also feels part of the performance.

Asnwer always felt like the Hero's Feast before the final battle.

Answer, my beloved (I am pretty damn sure) turning point for the entire lore.

Ooh, Maddox's evil laughter in the trailer...

Maddox really brings his Best Level Menace factor to the intros/outros (and being Z... if you weren't aware he's the guy who literally wears the Z outfit in any MV where Z appears)

Horizon and Precious have such menacing energy. I get why people love them, but they feel like corrupted files (perhaps by design).

THE VCR FOR THE ANSWER COMEBACK STAGE IS BONKERS!!

The stage for Ode To Joy! THIS IS MUSICAL THEATER GREATNESS!

I just recognized the classical vocalist in this performance and it's the bus driver from the Drunkteez episode who sings Phantom of the Opera 😂

Evergreen statement: Ateez are the best performers of their generation.

End of Treasure: What a ride! Right? what a hell of a way to end the Treasure series with like a billion questions and no answers (lolllllllllll) and then Fever can finally start doing some worldbuilding.

More lore tomorrow!

#ateez #ateez lore #loretiny #thirst gets lore-pilled

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lopposting · 24 days ago

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I love how in 2023 onward we were all like,

What will the DLC be about? What kind of classic literature will they incorporate and adapt next? Will it have elements of the Oz series, as seen in the final cutscene of the base game? Is P going to Neverland, replete with flying ships and swashbuckling battles? Or perhaps, if filling out more of the existing base game - Perhaps it will adapt the lesser known "first act" of Collodi's Pinocchio? We see the frigid arctic and the northern lights - could it be possibly Mary Shelley's Frankenstein? Or, going by the importance of water in concept art - Hans christian Anderson's The Little Mermaid?

And devs are like "nope. those are all good guesses but actually it's The Final Problem. Overture is "Lies of P: The Final Problem. Oh and heres the new trailer. also the release date is today. bye"

#yes i will elaborate. yes i will expand on this. later #lies of p #lop #spoilers #lies of p spoilers #lopdlc spoilers #overture #lies of p overture #lies of p overture spoilers #overture spoilers #lop dlc spoilers #remember when we were all convinced pre launch that venigni was the cunning fox from the classic Pinocchio tale in pinocchio game #and the game came out and the devs were just like “nope. batman. he is batman”#“also robocop is here”#btw - the final problem was the intended final instalment of the sherlock holmes series #never in a million years would i have predicted pinocchio game dlc to be an adaptation of the final problem #actually in the two years ish the dlc took to make i think literally no one guessed “the final problem”#also why i think Lea = not dead.#speculation #WILD THOUGHTS ONLY HOURS

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dalmascan-requiem · 10 months ago

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Light's Overture: Magitek

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Cid makes a terrible error.

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Read on AO3 or keep reading after the jump

content warnings: none

Part of FFxivWrite 2024

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The Warrior of Light's ineptitude with technology wasn't originally well-known. Well... Cid learns about it the hard way.

This is for day one's prompt for FFxivWrite 2024, Steer.

“Well, I’ll be. I don’t know how you managed to take the Garleans out while keeping the armor intact, Kris, but I thank you for it.”

Cid flashes the Warrior of Light a grin as Biggs and Wedge give a thumbs up. “Now all we need are the disguises, and you’ll be able to infiltrate the Castrum.”

The engineer taps a finger to his lips for a moment before continuing. “Kris, you haven’t driven Magitek armor before, right? Why don’t you pilot it back to Revenant’s Toll? While Wedge will be using it at the Castrum, it’ll be helpful for you to know how to control one… in case something happens.”

Kris stares blankly at Cid for a moment. “You want me to…?” A look of excitement spreads across his face as he nods. “Okay, sure! I promise not to break it!”

Huh? What does he mean by that…? Cid can’t help but feel that he made a mistake, but Kris already climbed into the armor and is staring at the control panel.

”Hm… how do I turn it on? Ah, this looks like it—“

“Kris, it’s already on—“

Suddenly, the Magitek armor rears back at an odd angle, threatening to throw Kris out of the driver’s seat. “H-hey! What is—“ He pulls a nearby lever in shock, and the armor shoots its remaining rounds of ammunition into the skies above Mor Dhona.

Oh… Hells…

The Ironworks engineers could only look at the ensuing chaos in horror. Kris starts hitting buttons randomly in a panic, causing the armor to pitch around wildly while he struggles to stay on. After what feels like an eternity, the sound of a sharp crack fills the air as the Magitek armor finally powers down.

Cid watches the smoke rising from the armor in silence, feeling a headache coming on as Kris looks at the control panel in confusion. “Oh. Is… is it okay?”

”Kris, just… get out of the armor. Please.”

He quickly gets out of the armor and watches as Biggs and Wedge access the damage, a slight pout on his face. Well, I suppose the Warrior of Light had no need to learn how to pilot Garlean tech…

“It’s still structurally sound… somehow.” Wedge shakes his head as he looks at one of the armor’s legs. “One of the components in this leg is busted, but with the right parts, we can fix it. I think.”

”Well, that is a blessing, at least.” Cid sighs, suddenly feeling very tired. “Let’s get this back to—“

Kris perks up as he learns the armor can be fixed. ”Oh, that's good! Do you need me to help with—“

”NO.” The voices of the trio echo in the valley, and Kris looks down at the ground, sulking at the disapproval.

I’d find that more endearing had he not damn near blown up the armor just now… “We all… have our strengths, Kris. Why don’t you secure the disguises? We’ll take care of the armor.”

Kris nods. “Alright, I’ll get it done.” Cid wasn’t sure if Kris was still upset at the incident, but when he was out of earshot, he lets out a deep breath and turned to the others.

”The Warrior of Light is never allowed inside the Ironworks.”

#ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv fic #ffxiv oc #my oc #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #ao3 #FFxivWrite #ffxivWrite2024 #series: light's overture

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transgwender616 · 2 months ago

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is there anything you want an excuse to absolutely infodump about?

if so go ahead because i love hearing peoples interests :3

(i like sharing interests too lol)

Sorry to make you read a post longer then The Loud House Revamped (If you don't know what that is Google it) also I know this is a a little too recapy

One of my all time favorite characters is Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel. I thought I was going to hate him but ended up loving him.

He's mentioned and makes voiceless cameos in the pilot so what he's like is hard to tell. I liked how his design didn't look like a stereotypical Devil but instead an angel of light. I also like the small details like looking like an apple core from the back and having a ducktail hair cut.

I was still a Christian when the pilot came out so I was really hoping that Lucifer would be evil. I did some better reasons for why he should be evil like how shitty Hell is and I usually don't like "what if bad guy was good" stories (Ex. Maleficent and Cruella)

By the time the series came out I was an atheist but I still held onto the idea that Lucifer had to be evil. The first episode "Overture" began exactly how I didn't want it to. Lucifer is a good guy that the other angels just don't understand, he formed a healthy romance with Lilith a fellow rebel, and gave free will to humanity.

I was rolling my eyes at this but then something surprised me. Eve eating the fruit still brought sin into the world. Heaven banished Lucifer into Hell meaning he never got to see the good that came from humanity only the evil. The reason he doesn't make Hell better isn't out of malice but depression. I thought that was a pretty good take so I was willing to give him a chance.

In "Dad Beat Dad" we finally get to see Lucifer on screen and he's a goofball obsessed with ducks. I thought it was stupid and I agreed with Lucifer when he said "Oh my God! Who am I kidding? This sucks." Then Charlie called him and I started to like him again. I related to being bad at phone calls. I also liked how giddy he got when Charlie invited him over. I even came around on his duck fixation. He was using his special interest as a coping mechanism for his depression. He just like me for real.

I also related to when he went to the hotel and his social skills were terrible. Him beefing with Alastor was endearing. He accepts Charlie as bi because that's what heroes do. I was still on the fence about him but he was slowly winning me over.

Then he sang "Hell's Greatest Dad" one of my favorite songs from and the show which gave off similar vibes to "Friend Like Me" from Aladdin and he officially became my favorite. Also the song had him beefing with Alastor more! I know this post is making it sound like I hate Alastor but I love him and the beef between him and Lucifer is just really funny to me.

Then Loan sharks come over because Mimzy owes them $50k (Mimzy is Verbalese confirmed!?) which unfortunately undoes the work Charlie did of trying to win Lucifer over by further proving how humans are the worse. I don't agree with Lucifer on this but it's understandable why he thinks this way. He's been stuck in Hell since near the dawn of time. It's also understandable why Charlie calls Lucifer out on this.

This leads to Lucifer's second song "More Than Anything". It shows that he does truly care for Charlie and doesn't want her dreams to be crushed like his was. Charlie then sings about how his stories made her who she was and that's why she wants to redeem sinners so much. This finally gets him to support Charlie's dream and was the moment he became on of my all time favorite characters. The "Looks like the apple doesn't fall far" was a cute pun.

In the season 1 finale "The Show Must Go On" He shows up late (to be fair he does live an hour away) to beat the shit out another of my favorite Hazbin Hotel characters Adam. Or as he puts it "You messed with my daughter and now I am going to fuck you." He was able to show off his shape shifting powers and I love shape shifters! He also reveals he banged Lilith and Eve. Adam got double cucked by a ringmaster lol.

After the battle Charlie gets depressed and Lucifer is able to get her out of her depression just like she did for him. He has his faith in humanity and redemption restored.

In retrospect him being evil would be pointless as the evil Devil traits were split between Alastor, Adam and Satan.

He shows signs of having autism. He's introverted, has a hyper fixations (ducks), poor social skills, is shown stimming, struggles with unplanned events, has trouble lying, was seen as a trouble maker for thinking differently, thinks out loud when alone, was able to pull a bad bitch etc.

He's also helping with my religious trauma. It's hard to be scared of The Devil when the first thing that comes to mine is a loveable goofball.

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grits-galraisedinthesouth · 4 months ago

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Her Royal Flairness

Don't put away your vomit buckets just yet...her ROYAL FLAIRness has more to say:

I took the liberty of changing the wording back to the way it was originally written by Her Royal Flairness:

MY Netflix Show Takes Over NYC's Times Square, Fans Swoon Over MY Tinseltown Triumph

As excitement builds, one thing is clear, I'm not just making headlines; I'm curating them, one perfectly framed moment at a time.

I am the Duchess of Sussex and I have a knack for drawing focus, whether through podcasts, docuseries, or lifestyle ventures.

I continue to dominate conversations, from Times Square billboards to industry speculation. With With Love, Meghan creating buzz, I my fans now wonder if As Ever will be next to land a Netflix deal.

My supporters antifa squad believes that just as Archetypes sparked meaningful conversations, With Love, Meghan will leave a lasting impact, proving once again that I know how to command attention.

Discussions online highlight how both productions reflect MY brand, blending thoughtful storytelling with elegance.

My squad has also been quick to draw comparisons between With Love, Meghan and Archetypes, noting that both projects received grand billboard promotions. Many see this as a testament to my growing influence across different media platforms.

I've been immersed in a series of high-profile engagements. I recently attended the Invictus Games, continued my philanthropic work through the Archewell Foundation, and made appearances at key Hollywood events. Alongside these commitments, I've been busy promoting my latest Netflix project, With Love, Meghan, which has already generated significant anticipation. My schedule remains packed as I balance advocacy, entertainment, and public life with my royal flair.

With Love, Meghan is an eight-part lifestyle series where I welcome friends and special guests to a stunning California estate. Each episode blends cooking, gardening, and hosting advice with my signature warmth and authenticity. I am The Duchess of Sussex and I encourage playfulness over perfection, sharing creative ways to bring beauty into everyday life. Featuring guests like chef Roy Choi, actress Mindy Kaling, and chef Alice Waters, the show aims to inspire viewers to embrace joy, simplicity, and meaningful connections.

In a move as grand as a Broadway overture, my With Love, Meghan now looms over Times Square, flashing its carefully curated imagery to the world. My ever-devoted squad has erupted into cheers, flooding social media with praise. They have seen the light, perhaps several stories high and in high definition, but a light nonetheless.

The sugars:

Are you excited to watch Meghan Markle's With Love, Meghan? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

#meghan markle is a fraud #grifters gonna grift #as if #worldwide privacy tour #spare us #netflix #megflop #unmitigated disaster #self promotion #her royal flairness

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nerdanel01 · 7 months ago

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Emmrook at the Opera

In honor of Sylvia confirming Emmrich’s occasionally into a “bold Orlesian opera” (one of the most exciting things to ever happen to me), I wanted to put together this little post on resources for anyone who might be curious about the genre, or want to incorporate it into their fic writing.

It’s going to be a little USA-heavy because I do, unfortunately, live in the land of hamburgers and assault rifles, but the silver lining is that I also live in the country that created this:

The Metropolitan Opera House in NYC has to be one of the largest opera houses in the world, at least partially because of the fact that it was built much more recently than many of the old ones. When it’s full, it fits over four thousand people in it. I once took a tour of the backstage with one of my best friends who told me, partially in jest, “Wow, I’ve never seen you look at your boyfriend the way you’re looking at this building.” I broke up with that boyfriend like a year later, but the Met is my love for life. I love the red velvet on the walls and the seats. I love the giant Marc Chagall paintings. I love the sputnik chandelier. I love the peeling gilt gold on the ceilings, which I often have a perfect view of from my seats in the nosebleeds. The Met is my boo.

Onto the resources!

If you just want to watch a movie that FEATURES opera but is not specifically an opera:

Moonstruck - Cher tries to invite her fiance’s brother (Nicholas Cage) to her wedding. Can you imagine what happens to Cher and Nicholas Cage next. Features the both of them on a date at the Met Opera (my beloved!) and excerpts from La Boheme. One of my all time fave movies, I identify deeply with Cher’s grandfather in the film.

Falling for Figaro is a pretty cute romcom about a finance chick who quits her job to pursue her dream of becoming a soprano.

And listen like the singing in Phantom of the Opera (2004) is. Not great. (I’m sorry Gerard Butler, I loved you when I was twelve.) But the opening sequence of the rolling camera pulls through the opera house as the overture plays will haunt me for the rest of my life.

If you’ve never seen an opera before, and want to watch one (either online or in person), I recommend starting with one of these:

La Boheme - One of the most popular operas, period. Also, it’s literally RENT. Beat for beat, from ‘will you light my candle’ to ‘la vie boheme,’ it’s RENT, just sung in Italian and set in Paris. (Spoilers, the ending in the opera is more tragic.)

L’Elisir D’Amore - If you like Agnes and Emmrich because you enjoy watching two idiots who are obviously in love with each other pine for each other, this is a good one. Very sweet. One of my faves.

The Barber of Seville - I think this one is very approachable if you think of it as a comic version of Sweeney Todd, if Sweeney had no tragic backstory and Jamie was a young noble. It’s a romance, shenanigans are had, and Largo al Factotum is one of the biggest bops of all time.

My personal favorites also include Akhaten, La Fille Du Regiment, Le Nozze di Figaro, and Turandot, but your mileage may vary with these—Akhnaten is very contemporary, productions of Turandot sometimes feature some pretty heckin’ yikes orientalism.

If you want to listen to opera music:

WQXR is NYC’s Classical Music Station. In addition to their regular classical music stream (which is also very good) they have a separate stream of just opera music called Operavore. (I also love New Sounds, but the streams vary wildly and its definitely an acquired taste.)

The Met broadcasts a series of live Sunday radio transmissions every year starting in the spring, available online and also via WQXR.

The Chicago Lyric Opera has a bunch of their live streams archived online.

I have also made a playlist where I’ll be adding all the songs featured in my Emmrook fics. :)

If you want to watch an opera stream online:

OperaVision

There’s this incredible list from OperaWire

But there’s also this site, where you can find pretty much anything

The Met also has it’s own paid streaming service, which is SPENSIVE on the subscription model, but if there’s something you really want to see and can’t find elsewhere, they allow you to rent single titles for $4.99 each.

I do strongly recommend, if you have any interest at all and have the opportunity, to go see an opera in person. For me it makes such a difference to be there in person, and it’s not as expensive as you might think! Plus, since opera is a dying art and opera houses are desperate for new audiences (at least, in America) there are usually a number of discounted ticket programs. (Again, the list below is super USA centric, I’m so sorry—and of those below, I’ve only been to the Met myself.)

The Metropolitan Opera is the biggest opera company in the US in terms of literally the number of operas they put on a year. Other than a brief break in February, the opera is pretty much in session 5 nights a week, from October through the end of May.

Family Circle. I love the family circle. I’ve spent so much time in the Family Circle. The acoustics ARE genuinely better up here than they are in other parts of the house, and depending on the opera, tickets in the Family Circle typically go between $26-45 dollars each.

Rush Tickets are available every day online—these are usually seats in the orchestra. I can’t remember exactly but I think these are always $25.

If you’re feeling ~opulent and looking for a very special date night, the Met also runs a program called Fridays Under 40. It’s a special priced Orchestra ticket for people under 40. Many of the dates also include little parties where they usually have photo booths, charcuterie, etc., and opportunities to meet some of the cast.

The Detroit Opera offers student rush tickets, although it looks like you have to be at the box office in person to get them.

The Chicago Lyric Opera has discounts for students and 50% off rush tickets.

The San Francisco Opera has a great offer for first-time opera attendees who live in the Bay Area - $20 for two great seats

The L.A. Opera also offers student rush discount tickets, and $30 tickets for attendees under 30 years of age.

I am not aware of any discounts for the Santa Fe Opera but it looks so cool and it’s on my bucket list to go one day <3

Dallas Opera offers student discounts and discounts for attendees 21-45 (although it looks like they’re aksing for a membership fee for the 21-45 program—boooo Dallas Opera)

Not super clear on the specifics, but Houston Grand Opera also offers some kind of Under 40 discount on select performances

Opera Philadelphia, which recently appointed my all-time-favorite opera singer Anthony Roth Constanzo as their director, offers $10 rush tickets and student discounts

Tips for your first time at the opera, if you do go:

A thing I did not know before I started going to the opera is that even though they are sung in foreign languages, there are almost always subtitles. At the Met, these are transmitted to the chair back in front of you and available in a variety of other languages. Other houses often project the titles above or at the side of the stage.

If you don’t want to read and listen at the same time, synopses are almost always available in your program or ahead of time.

The food and drink is expensive and almost always not worth it. When I go to the Met with my friends, I regularly bring in alcohol minis as well as little cheese/meat/fruit plates in tupperware in my purse. We eat these outside the theater at intermission. No one has every batted an eye at me. (Mileage may vary at other theaters.)

I know opera has a Reputation, and I definitely was a little worried at first that I would look out of place and people would be snide to me. I have never found this to be the case. The only reason someone will be an asshole to you is if you have your phone out or are talking during the performance—don’t do that. Keep it in your pocket until intermission and silence your notifications.

Crawl into my dms to talk to me about opera at any time, I will happily yap your ear off

#i told you i would be insufferable #emmrich volkarin

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wintrwinchestr · 2 years ago

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all of my works contain explicit smut, 18+ only please!!